The Dare
by jewet
Summary: Please read, rate and comment! Thanks! :


Goodbye for now, Venetia.

You know, you were really the reason I lived so long.

Until our dare, I had thought to maybe give in to the urge to jump the cliffs then and there. I had always an impulsive person.

But our dare changed everything.

Perhaps you will not even remember our dare after all these years, or perhaps to you the memory will be as clear as yesterday's. But anyways, let me tell you again, and, please, humor me and read it. Think of it as my death wish.

December 16th, 1938, we were both still thirteen years old.

You had just met me – but I had already known you.

How could I not? You were the sheriff's daughter. Everyone knew you.

Yet did you know everyone? Did you even know _me_? I think not.

But let me get back to the story. It was the summer holidays, and my family had just moved to be your neighbor. I still remember my mother's elated, supposedly surprised face when she learned of our new neighbor. I still remember how my mother, a three-month widow, tried to seduce your father, whose wife had died for nine years. It was almost funny.

Almost.

You were lonely that time. I think that's what drove you to speak with this strange, unknown girl when you saw her standing, closed eyed with her face turned towards the sun.

You said, "Hi. I'm Venetia, the sheriff's daughter. How about you?"

I almost smiled when I heard your voice, your famous voice. At that moment, all I thought was, _oh, so here's the girl whose father my mother is trying to seduce_. That was all I knew you as at that moment. I wasn't really ready to know more.

But I replied. Perhaps it was the biggest mistake in my life. Perhaps it was the best thing I had ever done.

I opened my eyes and looked directly into yours. I saw the initial widening of pupils as you registered the fact that I had such piercing blue eyes. I wasn't surprised – most people had that reaction.

"I am Feronia." That was all I offered. I knew you knew my mother. I knew you hated my mother. I knew you didn't know my mother had a child. For some curious reason, I wanted to keep it that way. For some curious reason, I wasn't quite ready for you to hate me yet.

Strange, but I'm not usually drawn to girls like you. I'm not usually drawn to bright, perky girls with bright, perky lives. I'm usually drawn to girls like me. Bitter girls. Skeptical girls.

You sat down. For some reason, I got an urge to sit down with you. So I did. I'm a very impulsive person.

For a while, there was a silence between us. I enjoyed the silence, savoured each passing moment. But I knew instinctively that it would not last.

I was right. I think you were unable to stand the silence any longer. "Do you live here?" You ask suddenly.

I answered after a long silence. "Yes. Actually, I'm your neighbor."

I let my words sink in. I knew you only have one neighbor. Or rather, one neighboring family.

You realize who my mother is. I watch in fascination as your face hardens, turns brittle, then, miraculously, softens.

"Well, you have an interesting mother." You say at last, and quite neutrally too.

I must admit, I was very surprised over your reaction. I half, no, more than half – I fully expected you to go hysterical and start yelling at me. That's what my half-sister Jennie would have done. Jennie's also a bright, perky girl. She used to go hysterical and start yelling at my mother's boyfriends whenever they came – which was often, since my mother has been dating different boyfriends on a daily basis and since she started dating again on the day of my father's funeral.

Which was one week after his death.

So I say, in reply to your comment, "You have an interesting father too."

But then, you did your typical perky girl reaction. You tried to change the subject. I was disappointed in you, yet, in some way, relieved, too, that I could think of you as nothing more than a perky girl again.

"So," you say brightly, "do you want to do a dare?"

I was surprised, again, at your choice of topics. But I don't mind this topic.

"Yes. You go first?" I say, waiting tensely for your dare. I had a feeling it would surprise me.

It did. You smiled and said, "I dare you to live 'till your eighteen. Easy, right? Your turn."

It would be hardest thing I had ever done, fulfilling your dare – harder than you think, harder than you would ever know. But, if I had my way, you would never know. If I had my way, you would never know what it cost me to say yes and give you your dare.

But I did.

It was my turn to give you your dare. I decided to do something in kind, "I dare you to live a full, happy life." In short, I dare you to be the complete opposite of me, I added silently.

I wait for a while, and I can see that you are clearly surprised by my dare, but you say yes, eventually.

It is only then that I notice the time. It is only then that I realize I have to go home.

So I do. "I have to go home now."

You smile. "Sure! I'll see you soon, then?"

"Sure," I force myself to smile back, even though I know that I will take steps to make sure you don't ever see me again.

So you don't. And I live until I am eighteen before I die.

Perhaps, to you, dares mean nothing. But to me, it's a swapping of trusts.

I have shown that you can trust me. But until the end of your life, can you really show me that I can trust you?


End file.
